


A Final Visit

by crestfallen999



Category: Hannibal Extended Universe - Fandom
Genre: #ItsStillBeautiful, A look into Will's self discovery in the third person, Gen, How Do I Tag, I tend to be long winded, My First Work in This Fandom, Post S3, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, TWoTL, and ramble a lot, not much action, slow burn for sure, sorry - Freeform, this has the potential of making no sense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-07-29 21:23:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7700182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crestfallen999/pseuds/crestfallen999
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Still on the run, Hannibal and Will stop at one last place before leaving the country.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Final Visit

**Author's Note:**

> I had, and probably still have no idea where I was going with this.  
> This is a product of insomnia after too many cups of tea and listening to sad songs all night...yes..
> 
> If anyone's curious, the quote is from Johanna "Hannah" Arendt.

They were supposed to leave that night. Together, side by side. Had he chosen to. But life can be cruel. As a bearer of gifts, life has a habit of dispersing them to every new life indiscriminately. Years ago, life handed Will a gift, concealed and swathed in several intimate layers of secrecy. A gift for him, and him alone to unwrap. As he mentally developed, the knowledge and self-awareness he acquired at each stage of his life, ignited a revelation of secrets about himself in succession. Uncomfortable and personal secrets. Ones typically confronted with the passage of time. Gradually, as time took its course, layers peeled off, and the ties that bound his gift together unraveled to reveal the content inside. Cupped in his hands, it was then when Will became aware of the kind of gift he had received.

Will was no stranger to loneliness; they were well acquainted. Where others have had loneliness visit their hearts temporarily, loneliness entered Will's and never left. Thanks to his gift, it permeated into his heart early in his childhood, enforced by his upbringing, and resided there indefinitely. A permanent coldness that couldn't be shaken off.  
Will had no problem establishing contact with individuals; his gift made sure of it. But this contact was peculiar. It always transgressed mental intimacy, and in the process, blurred whatever morality he thought he had. The doors he opened with his gift hid in the recesses of people's minds, unleashing dark waves of disturbances through them. On many occasions, these waves would consume Will. Caught in the tide, and swept violently by the current, he would struggle to keep afloat, but often failed. From then on, he kept his distance as much as possible. 

Solitude came with his loneliness. Although solitude provided him comfort through distance, the space created by that distance, as Will soon discovered, is a powerful medium for introspection. Will was comfortable by himself, not with himself; he discovered that much about himself, once. An attempt to analyze the latter caused him confusion and an insurmountable amount of fear. Even in solitude, Will found no relief. For his sake, he decided, whether unconsciously or otherwise, a disconnection had to be made. He isolated himself from himself, and once again, loneliness claimed another victory. Will could not recognize his life without it, and, due to his gift, loneliness never left his side. 

Until he met him. 

Will knew of intimacy to some extent. He was familiar with its many definitions, and had felt certain versions of it, but the type of intimacy he felt when he was around him went beyond any explanation. Beyond what he had ever felt in his life. His gift provided no shortage of sensations, but it had never permitted him to feel this before. It seemed as if life finally loosened its grip and presented Will with an opportunity in the form of a man. Like a gift, this man was wrapped in layers of secrecy, which time carefully stripped off. The mask came off and displayed the man as he wanted Will to see him: vulnerable.

"The lonely man finds himself surrounded by others with whom he cannot establish contact or to whose hostility he is exposed." 

Yet in Hannibal, Will found a connection that struck fervor, and melted the cold inside his heart, softening the organ after years of self-loathing. With this warmth came a love he never had. With that love came a fleeting self-acceptance, a transient emerging of his two selves. But at that moment, Will was not ready to be together with himself, to behold the beauty emanating from him. He betrayed himself and the one closest to him, and what ensued was a grisly forgiveness.

Now, it was different. Will had come to terms with himself and was able to see how beautiful it was. How beautiful it still is. Instead of condemning his gift, he accepted it and himself for the first time. Things in his life would have turned out differently had it not been for life's donation. The acceptance he invited brought a settling understanding that Will didn't want it any other way. He opened his arms and welcomed his true self the same way Hannibal had welcomed him for who he was. However, in the time he took to attain self-realization, something was taken away from him. This brought him here.

They needed to leave. However, Will wanted to pay a visit. Just once, before they left for good. After his hospital discharge, Will found the information he needed to arrive at their current location. He had longed to come many years ago, but he was never ready. He wasn't sure if he was now, nevertheless he was here. It was relatively dark, but dawn was breaking ever so slightly, peeking over the horizon with faint beams of pink and blue. Will wanted to take in the sight, but knew he couldn't. Hannibal was being polite; giving him time, but he could see the urgency growing in his partner's eyes. They had to go soon.

As he examined Hannibal's eyes, he was still unable to describe how Hannibal made him feel. It just felt right. A deep, filling breath was the closest thing to which he could compare it. Just as Will had entered into Hannibal's mind, Hannibal entered into Will's and unlocked his barricaded door. The waves that came through it would usually suffocate Will, but not anymore. When that first wave hit Will, and he felt the current pulling him down into the abyss, a hand from above fished for his and pulled him back to the surface. Honey brown eyes greeted his first full breath of air, and there Hannibal was, standing in the water beside him. At that moment, Will became aware he was no longer alone in that darkness.

Will turned his head back. As he stood by a grave, he felt pressure accumulating in his chest as his eyes danced over the engravings on the headstone. Realizing this was the same feeling he felt on that night, made Will uneasy, nervous. Even if the hand that took that life wasn't his, he felt as if he still had blood on his hands. The ache in his chest expanded into his throat as he replayed the events of that night in his head in nauseating frequencies. He wished he could have seen himself sooner. The story would have had a different ending, a better one, with a space for one more.  
At that moment, Will felt Hannibal grabbing his left hand, gently tightening his grip. Will didn’t need to look at him to know what he was thinking; he could feel his thoughts through the link he created between them. Remorse.

What brought him out of his trance was the sensation of another hand pressing against his right one. 

Will turned to see Abigail looking at him, smiling. Even if she was a figment of his imagination, Will cherished the little moments they had together. Time had run out for her years ago; her clock made its final tick on Hannibal's kitchen floor. If the present is the realest perception of time, then almost all of what he perceived as present is already past. Abigail was a special case, being dead meant she did not exist in the present at all, only in the past. Looking fixedly at Abigail, he thought he could beat the laws of time. With enough winding maybe her clock would start again, and Abigail could cross into the realm of the physical world. She would never be stuck in the past again. Perhaps he should have Hannibal drop a teacup to see if it worked. Will furrowed his brows slightly.  
"Why are you smiling?" he asked. His faced throbbed with pain; the wound was still fresh.

She was dead. He was not. In his head, this fact did not spur happiness. Quite the opposite. She should feel resentful; he couldn't save her and his fear caused a chain of events that ripped the family apart. However, Abigail's smile remained, unaffected by the question.  
She tightened the grip on his hand, Will's mouth twitched in response. With his eyes still on her, Abigail proceeded to place her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes as she whispered to him "You gifted me this smile. I wear it to remind myself of you."

He shifted his head to gaze at the headstone in front of him. If words could physiologically injure, they did just that to Will. It seemed to him that she could feel his heart break as she began caressing his hand, her fingers planting kisses of solace with each touch. The seconds of silence that followed hit a nerve and tightened his chest until the first tear broke free. He choked back on the stream that pleaded to escape. 

Hannibal noticed Will's breathing had quickened and felt his quiet agony surfacing. He pressed up to Will, until their shoulders were touching. He tilted his head until it touched Will's, and closed his eyes. In the dead hour of dawn where everything was transfixed and silent, only their hearts moved, quietly lamenting for the family that could have been.

For now they had memories to hold onto, in their memory palace. When their time came, they would join her. They would reunite once more, for good this time. One day.  
But not yet.

No, not yet, thought Will, witnessing the breaking of dawn through distorted, wet eyes, in kaleidoscope fashion.  
Besides, they had so much more to do. They had promises to keep.


End file.
